The garden has to be ready for Spring,I have to order carpet swatches.And I recorded a cool show last nightthat really needs watching.

I must do my taxes,
I must write another 1000 words.
But my brain won’t focus
and flutters like a flock of birds.

I give myself an imaginary slap.Focus, now, snap out of it!It’s like high school’s lack of toil,when the night before the examyou were burning the midnight oil.

I must do my taxes,
I must write another 1000 words.
But my brain won’t focus
and flutters like a flock of birds.

You’re a grown-up now, I tell myself,face up to reality and your responsibility!You know what’ll happen if you don’t do it on time.The authorities will just bury you in hostility,and you’ll regret not taking the 60 minutes
to finish off that compulsory business.

I take a deep breathand force my feet to my folders and files.This is it, I’m going to clear that big hurdle,but not before the towels are in a perfect pile.